The venue was in ruins. Screams echoed everywhere as fire and blood stained the once-bright hall.
Acolytes rushed through the crowd, cutting people down without mercy. Some civilians tried to fight back with chairs, bottles, or even their bare hands, but they were no match. Broken tables and lifeless bodies covered the floor.
"Help! Somebody help!" a woman cried, dragging her bleeding child toward a corner—only for an Acolyte's spell to cut her down.
Tower guards fought desperately, swords clashing against the attackers. Sparks flew with every strike.
One mage unleashed a fiery blast that sent Acolytes crashing into the walls, giving survivors a brief moment to breathe—only for more enemies to pour in, screaming their chants as they attacked.
The air was filled with blood, fire, and fear.
